


Orbiting

by 3x3



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, also jackie is in there somewhere because i love her, au where marco has no idea star is a magical princess from another dimension, i love marco and star's friendship a little too much tbh, sorry i know it annoys some people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18050525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/pseuds/3x3
Summary: And just why are you helping your best friend's ex getting back in her good graces again?





	Orbiting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Moon_Writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Moon_Writer/gifts).



> so I wrote this like last summer?  
> and honestly i wrote this whole thing just for a friend  
> but well with season 4 coming out and all i think i'd share it with the rest of the world  
> Seriously though Jess how did you find out so quickly I was literally just going to message you in the morning

You don’t always go around meeting all powerful demon princes of hell, but when you do, it’s quite the disaster.

Which is totally not your fault. Because, how are you supposed to know that the weird creepy dude loitering around the parking lot of that 7-eleven you work at is a runaway royalty of an otherworldly species? How are you supposed to know that said creepy dude is an ex of your best friend- who happens to drop by with your lunch you forgot to take with you this morning? And how are you supposed to know that attempting to slap off the aforementioned dude’s reaching grasp would result in you _literally chopping off his hand_?

So no, it’s not your fault that you totally freak and scream an octave you never knew you could reach, which aggravates the skeleton-horses (???) that spring up and surge forward with the bulky old-fashioned carriage they’re pulling (really, since when was _that_ _there_?), which causes the dude to fall over due to the still hung-open doors of the carriage hitting him behind the head.

“ _Marco_.” Your friend chides you. “You scared these poor darlings.” she coos at the skele-horses, still whinnying nervously. How they are doing that without any vocal cords, you have no idea.

You splutter incredulously. “I- what?”

But she is no longer paying attention at you, too busy making animal noises at the undead creatures.

You clear your throat. Your friend looks back at you curiously. (So does the skele-horses. To be honest, they’re starting to creep you out.)

“Yeah, uh.” your mouth feels a bit dry. “What exactly _are_ those things again?”

She rolls her eyes at you, like she’s exasperated. “Please, Marco. Show some respect. These beauties,” she gestures to the skele-horses, who shake their non-existent manes and stand up a little taller, “are the royal steeds of the underworld.”

“Right.” you bob your head along in agreement. “Because that makes perfect sense. Flaming skeleton horses straight from hell. Royal steeds- pulling a grand carriage. I suppose that guy passed out on the ground over there is the crowned prince of the underworld?”

“ _Now_ you’re getting it!” your friend grins encouragingly. “Observant as always.”

You bark out a laugh, just from the plain ridiculousness of the situation. Imagine yourself- the dubbed Safety Kid (granted, you are more of a misunderstood bad boy, but irrelevant in this specific occurrence.), chopping off the hand of an all powerful, possibly immortal being with a lineage older than you could ever imagine. “Excuse me,” you say politely. “I have to pass out for a quick second.”

And your sight goes black.

* * *

 

You hear voices in hushed exchanges when you regain consciousness.

_“But Star-”_

_“For the_ last _time, Tom. No still means no.”_

Wait-

Tom?

You recognize the name hazily. _Tom? As in Star’s ex-boyfriend Tom?_

If not for that mention of the overly-familiar name, you would’ve felt annoyed, even offended that other people are having an argument in _your spot_ , on _your shift_.

You bolt upright, eyes flying open, and there they are, working at the register (very badly) behind the counter.

“Ah, Marco! You’re awake!” Star greets you cheerily, finally getting the register to open up for her.

“How long was I out?” you ask groggily, sitting up from your very uncomfortable position, slumped over one of the chairs at the dining area.

“About ten minutes?” Star’s gaze darts to the guy beside her, asking for confirmation. The guy shrugs. “Don’t look at me. I was out until three minutes ago.”

“Right. And what do you two think you’re doing?”

“Covering your shift, duh.” Star says, “I’ve been working my butt off, while, you, mister, decided to take your little impromptu nap, which is _not cool_ , by the way.”

“Well, excuse _me_ if I feel slightly overwhelmed that I chopped some guy’s hand off clean, after an _actual_ burning coach popped out of seemingly _nowhere_ and drove into the parking lot of my workplace.” You can’t help but argue.

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that these things don’t really happen here on Earth.” your friend comments thoughtfully.

You feel an strong urge to knock yourself out cold again.

“Hey, dude. Are you alright?” asks an uncertain voice.

You glance up tiredly. Then you turn to Star. “Do I even want to ask about the-” you gesture vaguely at the guy’s facial areas. “No offence.” you hastily add, feeling a stab of guilt for being _that guy_ who judges people by their appearances.

He shrugs good-naturedly. “Non-taken. But if you don’t mind me asking, what was it that set you off? The extra eye? The fangs? The horns?” he asks, motioning to the mentioned parts respectively.

“Ah. That’s just Tom.” Star says dismissively. “My ex.”

Tom looks sad about the introduction.

“I remember.” you reply. “You may have brought him up once or twice. I just always assumed when I hear you talking about your ‘demon ex-boyfriend’ that the ‘demon’ part is metaphorical.”

(Tom perks up at that. You both ignore him.)

“Huh.” Star says. You think it concludes your mood perfectly.

“What is your ex doing here then?” you question weakly, deciding not to linger about the more magical aspects of this scenario.

“To invite her to-” Tom perks up before being cut off by Star. “Yeah, no. I’m still not going.”

“Please, Star, just give me another chance-”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Star-”

“Just accept that you’ve been rejected.” You insert sympathetically. You know firsthand how stubborn Star can be when she wished to be.

“Yeah, Tom.” Star crosses her arms around her chest. “You can’t stop me from moving on with my life.”

“What do you mean _moving on_?” for a split second, Tom’s eyes flare up with a dangerous light.

“Tom.” You’ve never heard your cheerful, carefree best friend in such a low and dangerous tone.

The light dies down in an instant. “I’m- I just. I’m sorry Star. It’s just, things have changed, _I’ve_ changed.” he pleads. “If you would just let me prove it to you-”

“Yeah, this conversation is over.” Star brushes him off, bored. “Let Marco do his work in peace.” She throws an easy arm around your shoulder and drags you both behind the counter.

You shoot her a pointed look. “You’re- Star. You’re in my place.”

“Oh, sorry.” she springs back. “Regardless. Byeeee, Tom.”

You can’t help but notice how sad the demon looks when he trudges out of your shop reluctantly.

* * *

 

You ask about Tom, because honestly, how can you _not_?

“It’s nothing, really.” Star tells you nonchalantly. “We were young and dumb and dated for a while. Then I dumped him.”

“Okay. But why?”

Star thinks about it for a second. “Mostly because of his anger issues, I think.”

“How did you even _know_ a prince of the underworld in the first place?”

“I mean-he was attractive, my age, and he could _really_ dance. And it would do both our kingdoms a lot of good to have an ally.”

“ _Kingdoms_?”

So your best friend proceeds to tell you about the her home- Mewni, and how she is the former princess next in line for the throne who fights evil forces that try to steal their magical heirloom.

“Former?”

“Yeah,” she muses. “Turns out my great great great great great something grandma was actually a peasant girl that got smuggled into the palace and switched with the actual princess at birth, because she was a half-monster hybrid. Then we had to fight that actual princess when she tried to take back the throne by force and sucking out everyone’s souls, then her mom who’s been crystallized for 200 years somehow managed to stop her and she reverted back to a little baby, and Mewni’s been starting to try this whole democracy thing ever since.”

“So you’re magical.” You say.

“Fought a regenerating lizard-man for it.” she confirms.

“And you never told me about any of this?”

“I haven’t?” she blinks.

“No.”

She frowns. “Really? Cause I could’ve sworn I did.”

Come to think of it, your friend has always been a bit caught up in her own mind. It never once occurred to you that it might be because she’s from a whole different universe, though that’s hardly on you.

“Anyway, it’s not really all that interesting compared to what you have here on Earth.” she fidgets with her fingers a bit.

Your eyes widen incredulously. “Are you _kidding me_?”

So she proceeds to tell you all about her homeland; her mother and father, the king and queen of Mewni; her best friend- “best _magical_ friend”, she explains hastily, like she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings as her “best Earth friend”- who is a floating pony head princess.

It’s a fascinating world, now that you’ve been introduced to it officially, and you can listen on to Star’s stories for eternity, the way her entire face lights up even brighter than you deemed possible, and how there’s a little leap seeping through her nostalgic tone.

(You let the thoughts of her magical ex-boyfriend slip away.)

* * *

 

It isn’t before you abruptly run into Tom again that the demon crosses your mind once more.

Well, you can’t really call it _run into_ , since he’s clearly waiting, sitting quietly on the outsides of the convenience store you work at, sipping on a Slurpee you _swear_ you didn’t see him pay for. You don’t really want to deal with it though, so you pretend not to notice while you greet him hesitantly. (It’s weird, isn’t it? Saying hello to your best friend’s ex casually while catching said ex in a stalkerish behavior.)

“Uh. I don’t think Star’s coming today?” You tell him.

“Ah, no.” he responds quickly. “I’m actually looking for you. Marco, is it?”

You nod, despite the shock and the alarms blaring off in your mind and that shriek of _He knows your name!! Quick!! Change your identity and run to Canada!!_

“Your shift is over, I reckon?” he shoots you a strange glance. “Can we… find some place to talk? Please?”

You’re tempted to say no, because that is your best friend’s ex, who really has nothing to do with you, and he wants to have a talk with you. The whole thing reeks of a bad idea. But Tom is wearing that sad face he has on last time and you can’t find it in yourself to send him away, so that is why you find yourself sitting at a cafe awkwardly, a near-stranger across from you, an uncomfortable silence between you.

 _Stupid Marco. Weak-willed._ You chide yourself.

“Sorry for making this awkward.” Tom speaks first. “I just wanted to apologize?”

“What for?” You arch your eyebrows.

“Well,” Tom scratches his head, seemingly embarrassed. “I want to make it clear that when I tried to ask Star out, I wasn’t aware that she was your girl.”

“Star’s not my girl.” You tell him honestly. “We’re just best friends, so-”

“You mean it?” The way he suddenly looks overjoyed make you almost want to take it back. “So that means it’s still possible to for me to get her back?”

You wouldn’t say that just yet… Star can be persistent, and she seems completely serious about Tom. He looks so hopeful though, and you’re reluctant to shatter his dreams, so you say, “Sure…?” Even though you’re pretty sure the odds of that happening are lower than winning the lottery, which is already lower than being struck by lightning.

The lovesick look only lingers a second before Tom deflate again. “Oh, but she still hates me, doesn’t her? I mean, I’ve been trying really hard these years. I just want her to know that. You’re her best friend- can you-? You know her best, right? So any idea on how I can win her back?”

“I don’t really know you, Tom.” You say to him. “But maybe you can start by trying to be her friend first?”

He looks genuinely troubled at your proposal, and for a split second you wonder if he understands the term “friend” at all. Perhaps not. It’s one of the curses of being wealthier, being more powerful than everyone else. The higher up people are, the lonelier they get. And according to Star, Tom is quite literally on the top of the food chain of the underworldly domain. You can’t begin to imagine how horribly _isolated_ that must feel like. Suddenly it doesn’t seem too far-fetched an idea that two people as different as Star and Tom (or at least far as you know him) were once in a relationship. Lonely people gravitate towards each other.

“So...no flaming roses?” Tom asks, snapping you out of your trance.

“Probably not.” You agree. “Might want to lay off the grand gestures of love declarations for now. Besides, Star can never keep a plant alive for over a week at most.”

“That’s true, isn’t it?” He chuckles a little, tenderly fond. “Good thing my roses don’t need any tending to keep blossoming.” His voice is smug, you notice. So he’s magical, _obviously_ , and he is willing to devote time and energy into channeling immortal power into ever-blooming flowers for a girl. A romantic, then. You add that note into your newly formed mental profile for Tom.

* * *

 

You should know to expect Tom’s more frequent appearances in your life, since you spend more than 75% of the time hanging around Star. (And the reason to _that_ is _definitely_ _not_ because you have no other friends. Or something remotely to a social life. Nope.) Tom, being a pursuer of Star’s affections, is bound to be around as well, even though so far Star has done nothing but reject him.

 

“Star.” You give her a _look_ when she slams the door yet again right in Tom’s face and nice black suit. “You need to at least hear him out. It’s very impolite of you to just disregard his presence.”

“Not my fault that he just won’t take a hint.” She snorts. “I made it specifically clear that I’m _not into him that way._ Why does he keep coming back?”

“Well, I think it sounds sweet.” You mumble under your breath. “Why do you assume that he’s always trying to make a move on you?”

Star looks unimpressed as she plops back down on the couch and hits the resume button on the screen. “That’s all he does. Period. Besides, didn’t you see his fancy jacket? What part of that _doesn’t_ scream fancy romantic dinner date to you?”

“It makes up the majority of his wardrobe. What do you expect?” You mutter. “You _could_ have a perfectly platonic fancy dinner date? I just don’t see anything wrong with a harmless date.”

She studies you wearily, and for once you couldn’t pinpoint _where_ her string of wandering thoughts leads to.

 

You also talk to Tom about it.

“Low key.” You remind him. “Remember? You’re just scaring her with your freshly ironed shirts and polished horns.”

“She doesn’t look very scared to me.” Tom retorts.

You reconsider your wording. “Fine. You’re making her jittery, then.”

Tom flops down on the tabletop, his voice a little muffled and unclear. “It’s so _hard_.” he complains. “How _does_ friendship work, then?”

So your speculations turn out to be correct after all. Tom doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He’s just a socially awkward teenager.

For some reason, that makes you lower your defenses against him, as your best friend’s ex. Perhaps it’s because hearing your guesses confirmed by Tom himself makes him less of an abstract idea of a bad relationship, more of a real person with emotions and insecurities.

That’s when you decided that you want to help him, for real. Not just with Star, but with society and himself as well.

“ _This_ is how it works.” You say to him. “ _Us._ We’re friends.”

“ _We are_?” his eyes bulge out comically. The expression is so gleeful an child-like it draws a surprised laugh out of you. “Of course.” You tell him confidently.

“But that’s such an abstract concept!” He complains. “How am I supposed to know where the line is? You know-” He gestures stiffly with his fingers. “The one between romantic and platonic affections?”

“That’s, uh-” A question you never think you’d have to answer for someone. “A very good question. It’s more of a feeling, really. You can just tell it in the atmosphere.”

“But what if I can’t?” Tom counters, frustrated. “I’m not very good at picking up social cues. That’s why I’ve been a loner. People tend to steer away from me.” He furrows his brows.

“Okay.” Your mouth says, while your mind is already miles away, scraping every corner to come up with any sort of idea- an answer, some advice, a solution. “What if we- what if we roleplay it? Like a test-run?” You blurt without really running through your brain-to-mouth filter. Then you flinch, and curse yourself inwardly for exposing your nerdy self.

You shoot a dreaded glance at Tom, but find that his face is lit up with interest instead of the confused distaste you’ve come to expect over the years. “Marco.” He’s regarding you with a solemn tone. “That’s a really smart idea.”

“Yeah…” You chuckle meekly. “That’s about all I do.”

He doesn’t catch the sour undertones of that line, but he’s so pumped up you feel relieved that he didn’t sense it after all. “Okay!” He says to you brightly. “So how does this work? You’ll be Star-”

“And I’ll stop you every time I feel like you’re too close to hitting on me.” You promise.

He looks at you with so much wonder and marvel pooling in his eyes you think it should definitely be flooding out already. They’re a brilliant ruby red, shining brighter than anything you’ve ever seen, and you contemplate why you’ve never paid attention to them before. You ponder upon the thought if Star’s ever been aware of them before, and if she has, how she managed to escape from drowning in their glorious light in the first place.

“You’re a good friend, Marco.” he says to you, and his small smile warms you in a tingly, pleasant way.

And you smile back.

(You can’t believe you’ve managed to befriend Star’s ex. What’s even more unbelievable is you don’t mind it one bit.)

* * *

 

Befriending Tom is strange, because that means you’re hanging out by yourselves even without Star.

Okay yeah, you’ve been hanging out on your own even before you forcefully labelled your relationship with Star’s ex as “friends”, but it’s different with an official title, isn’t it?

You don’t think it’s that different from hanging out with Tom, the friend; and Tom, some kid who wants your advice on how to woo your best friend; since what you two do are about the same anyway. Sit somewhere. Eat. Talk.

You certainly _feel_ different, though, in some place even you can’t quite tell.

You can almost pinpoint that sliver of thought when Jackie, your (embarrassingly) long-time crush asks you _Hey, Marco. Who’s your friend_?

There’s this pathetic hint of pride when you don’t splutter (too much) while vaguely introducing Tom as being a foreign exchange student.

“Cool.” She smiles warmly. “Nice to meet you, Tom. Maybe you can teach me that thing you did to your pants sometime.” Her eyes twinkle at you. “See you around, Marco. Say hi to Star for me.”

You don’t notice that you sigh as Jackie skateboards out your sight, but Tom obviously does, because he gives you this odd look. You snap back into focus as you puff out your chest a little defensively. “Got something on your mind?”

“You _like_ her, don’t you?” He accuses. There’s nothing in his tone that is anything close to hostile, but somehow you get annoyed anyway.

“So?” You retort hotly, unsure of why you are reacting so strongly. He’s one to talk. He’s the one with a practically hopeless crush on your best friend.

Tom holds up his arms in defeat. You wonder what his flighty eyes mean.

* * *

 

You don’t actually know why you’re so invested in your best friend’s love life, going as far as helping her ex win her favor.

“No no no.” She huffs. “A million times _no_ , Marco.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” Star throws her hands up exasperatedly. “We’re not good together. The relationship was toxic, and not just because I was at that rebellion age where I deliberately went out of my way to upset my parents by going out with a ‘bad boy’. Well, a royal bad boy, but still.”

You stare at her. “You dated Tom because you were spiteful?”

She groans. “I was _young_ , Marco. We all do dumb things when we’re young. Tell me you haven’t done anything dumb for Jackie growing up.”

Your mind flashes to the time in kindergarten you trudged in mud to pick that very pretty blue flower that reminded you of Jackie, then left it in her cubby anonymously because you were too much of a chicken. And that time in second grade you got beat up by the big kids for defending Jackie when they were laughing at her freckles behind her back. (You started taking karate lessons after that.) And that routine you had going out throughout your school years where you get up early every morning just to exchange a nod with her by your locker as she skateboarded by.

“Nope.” You lie blatantly through your teeth.

She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

You hold her challenging gaze defiantly. If you look away, that means you’re wilting from guilt, and you can’t allow that to happen.

Thankfully Star seems unenthusiastic about the topic, because she brushes it off by saying, “Can we please change the subject now?”

“Sure.” You hope she never finds out how relieved you feel that she’s no longer pressing on the question.

* * *

 

“Just why are you _so_ fixated on Star?” You ask off-handedly one day, munching on your home-made nachos. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I mean- Star’s great. She’s my best friend and I love her, but what is it in particular that got you all moony-eyed over her for so long?”

“How long have you had a crush on that girl from that other time?” Tom counters with a question of his own. “What’s her name again, something with a J?”

“Jackie.”

“Yeah, Jackie!” He snaps his fingers.

“What does that have to do with anything.” You ask flatly.

He shrugs. “I was thinking it’s probably like that. It wasn’t some huge lightning-flashy moment. It just is. You just realize it one day. _Darn_ , I’m liking this person a little more than I thought I would.”

You think about Tom’s words.

“I guess she’s just the first person to treat me fairly. To not see me as a monster.” He tells you finally.

* * *

 

You know Tom must’ve taken your advice to heart when he shows up next time without a suit or tie, without any flowers, without his over the top royal carriage, and even without a semi-dramatic entrance.

He stands there in the doorway of your shared apartment, dressing like he always dresses around you: plain t-shirt and jeans, young and boyish, and cracks a toothy, friendly smile. “Marco!” He greets you enthusiastically. “Is Star-”

“Star!” You call out behind your back, and you hear the girl throw back a quick “Coming!”

Even Star knows the difference, when you see the subtle shift in your best friend’s expression as she settles her gaze at your guest. “Tom.”

“Hey, Starship.”

She shoots you a quizzical glance. You shrug innocently, and hide a knowing smile.

“Why are you here?” She asks Tom finally, after she finishes studying him.

“Well,” Tom appears to be a little nervous, twiddling his thumbs together restlessly. “I was wondering if we could hang out. All three of us.”

Star’s eyebrows shoot right up. “Wait, _three_?”

Your jaw slacks.

“Yes, three.” Tom echoes, and he sneaks a teasing look at you. You quickly close your mouth, trying to save whatever is left of your dignity. “If it’s okay for you and Marco.”

“What’s the catch?” She narrows her eyes distrustfully.

“No catch.” Tom promises. “I’m just trying to be nice, Star.”

Star seems to think about the invitation for a while, calculating Tom’s plans and what he wishes to accomplish. She apparently falls short while coming up with an ulterior motive because she breathes in deeply before nodding. “Okay, why not. Marco?” She asks you, and now they’re both staring at you.

You swallow. “Yeah, sure. That’d be- great.”

Tom beams.

You taste bile.

* * *

 

Tom doesn’t try to make a move anymore.

You’re not sure if it’s worrying or reliving.

On one hand, you no longer have to listen to his and Star’s ridiculous repeat of the same conversation over and over again (it’s always a reject), on the other hand, you can’t help but feel like he’s planning something _big_ , and when he strikes, you’re not going to be prepared.

You don’t like being unprepared.

But why should it bother you? Even if he _does_ have some trick up his sleeve, that’s Star’s business to deal with, isn’t it?

 _Because Star’s your friend_. His mind supplies. _Because_ Tom’s _your friend as well._

If your two friends start going out, you’re going to be stuck as the odd one out, the third wheel. No one wants that.

It’s sort of complicated now, because you want them to be happy, but that selfish nagging pesky voice in your head keeps drilling into your skull that _No, it’s not okay. You can’t let them get together because they’ll end up abandoning you and you’ll have no one left._

 _Tom only became friends with you because he wanted to get back together with Star, remember?_ The voice taunts. _You gotta keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t try anything fishy. Because honestly? There would be no reason for them to stick around you when they’ve got each other._

You tell it to shut up.

It doesn’t.

You stifle the urge to slap yourself across the face.

You manage. (But just barely. That’s how frustrated you are.)

You think you might be going crazy.

And once that thought starts settling in there’s no getting rid of it. It haunts your mind and spread across your headspace like a virus.

Then it’s just fueling your paranoia regarding Tom.

You don’t know when Tom starts popping out wherever you go, wherever you look.

He’s sitting on the doorsteps outside your house, bouncing a rubber ball contently, breaking into a grin when he catches your eye.

He’s out your store when your shift ends, offering a half of his sandwich as you tiredly push open the door.

He’s even at that pizza place you love eating at, squinting at the menu when you call his name and join him at his table.

That last one is so much of a coincidence it’s borderline disturbing.

If Tom were really a prince of the underworld, shouldn’t he have more princely-businesses to attend to?

You tackle your confusion by approaching Star first.

“I never thought to ask this,” You begin, “but why would you, a former princess of a powerful kingdom, be living here on _Earth_?”

“It’s not in our tradition, no.” She agrees, “But my family’s done a _lot_ of shady business. And I may or may not have lost this very very important spellbook and almost get our kingdom fried, so the people were not my biggest fans to begin with. And the thing is that a _lot_ of people’s got a bone to pick with the royal family. Now we’re not so royal anymore. It’s just not safe to be walking around Mewni where any random enemy we’ve made in the past can just saunter up and ambush me. So I’ve been sent here to this lovely and peaceful dimension where I’m much less likely to get killed young.”

“Okay,” You supposes it makes sense when you think about it, though you doubt Earth is particularly “lovely and peaceful”. Maybe by comparison. “What about Tom?”

“Tom?” She frowns.

“What’s Tom’s story? Did _his_ family get overthrown or something?”

Star puts on that look that you taught her when she quickly reruns through her memory before blurting out an answer with way too much conviction for someone who has no idea if she actually remembers certain events or if she dreamed it up one night.

“Not that I know of.” She says finally. “I think he just likes it here. I mean, it _is_ a lot sunnier and brighter than where he came from. There’s not much to do down there.” she shudders, like she’s recalling an unpleasant memory. “‘Sides, _we’re_ here. And I think he’s quite fond of us.”

You snort. “He’s here more often than not.” You say.

“Like I said, quite fond.” Star wiggles her eyebrows at you.

* * *

 

_Tom’s here all the time. He’s so helplessly in love._

* * *

 

Tom continues showing up all around you and you don’t exactly know what to think of it.

You’ve been inviting him to wait _inside_ the house. (Your mother immediately loves Tom after he compliments her self-sewn dress during their first meeting; and your father, well, he loves everyone and everything unconditionally anyway, but you secretly suspect that Tom has a special place on his nice list for being a being a less destructive houseguest than Star so far.)

You bring it up to Star, she smiles mysteriously and pats your hair gently, telling you that she’s glad that you’re _finally_ both making new friends.

You’re pretty sure she’s using the chance to poke fun at your (and Tom’s) lack of a social life, but you can’t really argue because she’s right, as always.

“I’m a little jealous that you guys have been hanging out so much and having fun without me.” She sighs melodramatically.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” You ask, frowning. The last thing you want Star to feel is excluded from her best friend and her ex. “Do you want to join our Mackie Hand movie marathon tonight?”

“Nah~” She declines cheerily. “I don’t want to intrude on anything. Besides, I’m going out with Janna tonight. Apparently it’s some cursed ghost’s hundredth anniversary. We’re going to see if we can raise it back from the dead.”

“Okay, have fun?” You catch her wave as she vanishes behind the door.

You don’t really get what she’s saying at all.

* * *

 

“I feel like you’re always taking _Tom’s side_ now.” Star accuses you one day, out of nowhere “Why is that?”

You wonder if she’s been holding in on this conversation for a while now.

“What does _that_ mean?” You wrinkle your nose.

“Well, I don’t see how you could be always saying good things about him when you don’t really know him.”

“I’m not _on his side,_ Star.” You tell her gently. “That’s absurd! I’m _always_ on your side. I just don’t understand why you two can’t be on the same side.”

“Because Tom and I can’t be, okay?” She snaps, pulling her face into a grimace.

“Okay then.” You conclude calmly. “I’m still on your side. But that doesn’t mean I have to be against Tom all the time. I might not have known him for long but from what I’ve observed so far, he’s pretty decent. And he’s seems to be the type of person who’s trying their best, you know, even when they don’t always succeed. Kinda like you, Star.” You smile softly.

She glances at you sideways. “So you two are buddies now, or what?”

“Something like that.” You admit.

Star sighs, like she’s finally made up her mind about something major. “Fine. I trust your judgement.”

“I thought you two are on much civil terms now?”

She glares at you menacingly.

“I’m not implying anything or trying to lecture you.” You hold up your arms in surrender. “I’m just being curious, I swear.”

Star drags out a breath. “I’m just getting used to his new attitude. It’s weird to think that he’s not trying something fishy.” she mutters. “I just need time to adjust.”

“Are you sure you’re not just missing his attention?” Somehow there is a slight nagging in your mind when you ask that. You dismiss it as best you can.

“Ahh, no. It’s nothing like that.” Star chuckles, sounding uneasy. “I already like someone else, Marco.”

“Oh.” You say dumbly. “Congratulations?”

“I mean-” She blushes pink. “It’s not for certain yet, I don’t think. I’m sort of experimenting with my feelings right now, so.”

“That’s good.” You say to her, still a bit surprised. “Take your time. You don’t need to put a label on it if you don’t want to.”

It’s not that you don’t believe Star doesn’t get romantic feelings about people- it’s quite the opposite, actually, since she’s always mooning over one guy after the other- but that she’s usually never this quiet about her crushes. You’re shocked that she hasn’t come barreling to you and blurting out all her feelings about this new one yet, since she’s clearly given herself some thought about it.

“Okay okay.” She sticks out her tongue. “Enough about my love life, let’s talk about yours. Anything new?”

You think about Tom for no apparent reason. Maybe because he’s the only changing factor in your ever-still life. And if there weren’t any changes in your life, how can there be any changes in your emotional state?

“Nah.”

“Lying to your best friend, Marco?” She shakes her head slowly, “Unacceptable.”

“There really isn’t anything new, though.” You protest. “You know how boring it gets around Echo Creek. Everything stays the same. Well, apart from you.”

Star seems pleased with your description of her.

It is true. Star brings adventures. Now even more so that he found out about her secret heritage.

“But surely there’s got to be _something_.” She persists.

You sigh, knowing she wouldn’t back down until you yield a satisfactory answer. “I’ve got nothing.” You say helplessly. “The only altering thing around aside from you is Tom.”

“Tom! Of course!” She claps her hand together gleefully. “You two have been getting along.” She muses.

You don’t see how she can be hissing his name with distaste just _five minutes ago_ and being so oddly excited about him _now_.

“I guess?” You squirm uncomfortably under her unnervingly ecstatic gaze, unsure what your friend’s playing at. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Tom’s nice to you. He hangs out with you regularly. He listens to your “nerd-outs”, as Star so eloquently calls them. He’s often unintentionally funny, and you don’t mean that in a rude way. He’s got that big bad scary demeanor going on but is secretly a huge softie who likes vanilla ice cream and share your passion for Love Sentence. And yeah, he is aesthetically pleasing to the eyes. So?

You tell all that to Star, and the girl breaks into a grin so huge it looks like splitting her face into two parts. Her eyes are glittering with delight from the upper side of said split-face.

“Know what Marco?” she giggles. “I think you’re falling for my ex-boyfriend.”

“I think you’ve finally gone bonkers.” You counter.

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine to admit, Marco.” she bats her lashes innocently. “I see where you’re coming from. I _did_ date him once. He _is_ really good-looking. And he can be fun to hang around.”

“I’m not in love with your ex, Star.” You roll your eyes.

“You’ve got it _bad_ ~” she hums.

You love your best friend, but at times like this there’s nothing you’d like to do more than to smash her skull in.

“Come~ on.” She prompts with a sly grin. “You know you can tell me everything.”

It doesn’t really make sense. But then again, not much makes sense after you hit grade school, so it’s not so surprising in the end.

And it’s pretty pointless to argue against Star. She’s always always always right, apparently.

She _does_ know you better than… pretty much anyone else.

So you think about it a little harder.

“He cleans up nicely, okay?” You finally mumble.

“I _knew it!_ ” Star lets out a _whoop_ and pumps a victorious fist in the air. “ _Yes!_ I knew it I knew it!! I’m so _happy_ for you!” She quiets down quickly. “Wait. What about Jackie?”

“What _about_ Jackie?”

“Isn’t she your- I don’t know, one true love?” Star asks hesitantly. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m glad you’re finally moving on.”

It would be a lie to say that you don’t feel anything. Obviously. After all, you _have_ been pining for her pretty much since you were both in diapers. On the other hand, it’s so nice to be feeling _different_. To get a chance of moving on.

You shrug. “It’s a little hard to pinpoint at the moment.” You explain.

“Okay!” She perks up immediately. “So, what’s the next move? Are you going to tell him? Are you going to ask him out on a date?” She gasps melodramatically and proceeds to fan herself with her hand.

You raise your eyebrows. “Please Star. He’s your ex. Your ex, who’s still trying to win you back. Your ex, who literally can’t look at anyone else as long as you’re in the room.”

She stares at you dead in the eyes. “You are very dense and very dumb, Marco.” You get the feeling that she’s making fun of you, but you don’t know why that is.

When you voice your confusion out loud all Star does is wave her hand dismissively and say to you seriously. “Just remember that Tom is my ex. And I know him better than you do. You might not be seeing what I’m seeing here.”

* * *

 

His bunny goes missing, and you don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.

Okay, yeah, you’ve seen the bunny. You know it. Because Tom sometimes brings her along, stroking and petting her fluffy fur. Something about being calming and helpful to his anger management issues.

You don’t think you’ll ever truly understand her significance, but she clearly means a lot more than you’d originally imagined when Tom bursts through your door frantically announcing that he needs help finding his bunny.

He’s pacing back and forth and back and forth and burning a trail of black remains onto your carpet.

“Breathe.” You instruct. “Sit. Or we’ll never get to the bottom of this.”

He glares at you sharply but obeys grudgingly.

You ask him to standard questions you memorized from those detective shows. _When’s the last time you saw her? Where was her? When did you notice her absence?_

Tom’s answers don’t help much because they are so scattered, and he keeps scrunching up his eyebrows. He’s fidgeting with the hem of his jagged shirt, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look smaller.

“Hey, we’ll find her, okay?” You reach to squeeze his shoulders reassuringly, but he flinches back abruptly, and you’re left hanging your arm awkwardly in mid-air.

Star tumbles through the door unceremoniously, and you quickly retrieve your posture.

“Okay Marco, what’s the emergency?” She asks bluntly, and only then does she seem to notice Tom’s presence, because she regards him wearily. “Hey….Tom. What’re you doing here at Marco’s emergency meeting?”

“Star, he _is_ the emergency.” You tell her.

“I don’t get it.”

“Tom’s bunny’s gone missing.” You say simply, then lean in and drop your voice to a whisper for the second part. “And I think he’s on the verge of a meltdown. Can you help?”

“Why’d you think I can do anything about it?”

You look at her blankly. “Aren’t you magic?”

“Tom’s magic too. By your logic he should have no problem at all. Magic doesn’t work like that, Marco.”

“So you’re not going to help out for your friends?” You pull a sad face on her, one that you _know_ she’s weak to.

“I never said that!” Star protests, then shakes Tom violently. “Tom. Tom. You still with us?”

Tom mumbles something incoherent under his breath. Star seems to be satisfied enough with that as an indication of Tom’s attention, because she then turns to Marco and asks, “Okay, so what’s the plan?”

You still don’t understand why people turn to you for answers.

The plan isn’t anything fancy (sorry to disappoint). But you really don’t know what more you can do for the situation than print out MISSING flyers.

Meanwhile Tom is still being an unbearably cranky snob, but you give him a pass for being distraught.

Though Tom’s calmed down relatively, he’s still plenty agitated and hasn’t stopped with the panicked steps.

You’ve been out all morning, stopping people on the street to ask them about Tom’s bunny.

No one’s seen her.

Obviously not. It’s not like bunnies just randomly wander onto the streets. Not even ones with owners from a demonic dimension.

It kinda wears you down after a couple of hours and you retreat back to the house, checking the phone for any messages about the bunny.

There aren’t any.

But you really don’t know what else to do at the point, so the three of you are stuck back in the house waiting for _some progress_.

* * *

 

You can feel your eyes start to twitch in irritation as the sound of the footsteps build up louder and hastier and it’s slowly getting onto your nerves, making you grow gradually more and more anxious.

“I know you’re worried.” You call out, knowing Tom is listening behind you. “But will you please quit the pacing?”

“Why do you care?” Comes the distracted answer.

“It’s driving me nuts.” You huff. “And I doubt it’s any step closer for you to find your bunny.”

“I can’t help it if I’m feeling bouncy, okay?” He snaps. “Come on. We’ve tried _your way._ And _your way_ doesn’t _work_.”

“What other way do you suggest?” You roll your eyes. “I’m telling you. This is the quickest and most systemized way to track down a lost pet.”

“Well it’s awfully slow for _the quickest way._ ”

“Don’t you think that’s mostly your own fault for not keeping a better eye on her?” You remark, unable to hold back the bitterness due to your patience being worn thin. “Neglectful much?”

The pacing stops abruptly. So does the sound of the sizzling fire on Tom’s fingertips. So does the low guttural rant in some demonic tongue bubbling restlessly off the walls of the room.

It’s like the world suddenly shut off.

“Uhhh, Marco?” Star warns and you turn just in time to see Tom storm up to you, managing to dodge the dive he makes at your shirt collar.

“Well, I’m sorry you’re _having such a tough time_ because apparently you’re _all stressed out doing NOTHING_!!” He shoves you square in the chest, and you fall back in shock.

“Hey!” Your voice cracks a little, much to your own annoyance. “I’m just trying to help you with a problem that doesn’t even concern me.”

“Gee, thanks.” Ton’s mocking tone is coated heavily with malice. “Because you’ve been very helpful _wasting my time!_ ”

Your face starts prickling with heat from the anger after your confusion wears off and suddenly there are waves crashing at your ears, drowning out your usually rational thoughts, leaving only the buzz of the jumbled up scatters. “Well, yeah.” You retort hotly, getting back on your feet. You push Tom back forcefully, refusing to stay down. “Maybe I shouldn’t have gone out of my way to help you so I can waste your time, waste _my time,_ waste everyone’s precious afternoons.” You seethe.

Tom outright bursts into flames, and if _that_ isn’t the most Extra thing you’ve ever witnessed. He’s levitating into the air, all three of his eyes wide open, glowing red. The screams that emits from seemingly _inside_ his body sounds so _shrill and thin and inhumane_.

 _“I’m tired of wasting my time here._ ” Tom’s voice(s) pile up layer after layer, echoing one another in a loop. “ _I’m tired of EVERYONE GETTING IN MY WAY!!”_ His flames flare up even higher. “ _Especially YOU! MARCO DIAZ!!-_ ”

A sudden surge of chill swoop into the air. You blink and see Tom crashed back onto the ground, icicled.

Then there’s Star, enveloped in a golden light. Wings(??) spread and all six(???) arms directed in Tom’s direction.

Then in a flash and she is back to normal.

You don’t even gape at her, just slump your shoulders tiredly.

“That’s it.” Star announces. “He has no right to speak to you like that. I didn’t want to use violence, but-” She shrugs helplessly.

“It’s okay.” You tell her, still feeling numb after all that yelling. “He would’ve killed me.”

Star scoffs. “He wouldn’t have _killed_ you.”

She glide over, and wraps her arms around you carefully. You hug back. Immediately, you feel better. “I should probably unfreeze him in case he gets hypothermia or something.” She murmurs into your shoulder. “But he’s a fire demon. He’ll live. Maybe a little cold, but nothing fatal.”

“Thanks.” You mumble into her hair. “But can you move him out onto the lawn? I don’t want to flood the living room again.”

* * *

 

“Why should I let this bother me?” You complain, flopping on the counter as you and Star wait for Tom to melt.

“You’ve got your feelings hurt, Marco. Of course it’s going to suck for you.” She says to you gingerly. “I really hate to say this, but I told you so. Guys like Tom can’t truly change who they are inside.” Star tells you.

Even when you’re mad at him and essentially had just gone through the friendship equivalent of a breakup, you can’t stop your mouth from going on autopilot to defend Tom.

“You’re being unfair.” You argue. “Tom’s been trying really hard, and you’re just going to brush off all his efforts because of a stupid stereotype?”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way.” she replies gently. “I mean it in a truthful way. I’m sorry, Marco. It’s not something you or I, or even he can control.” she says, and there’s an immense sorrow in her eyes that renders you speechless.

You’ve never seen Tom so out of control- then it hits you that you haven’t known Tom for that long yet. Why does it surprise you, despite the various warnings Star gave beforehand?

 _Because you trusted him. Because you believed in him. Because you thought you knew him_. A bitter voice spits in your mind.

You can’t help but feel like you’ve failed Tom, somehow.

The pang of silence is suffocating.

Star finally breaks it, inching to your side and pulling you upwards, face you properly. She takes a deep breath and puff out her cheeks before opening her mouth. “You know Tom has anger issues, right?”

You nod, confused. “Yeah. I’ve heard him talk about it. I never really see it though. He always seemed pretty chill to me.”

She sighs. “That’s cause it’s _you_ , Marco. _You’re_ the reason.”

“What?” Your mind draws blank.

Star facepalms.

“You’ve got this-weird aura going on.” She flails her arms about. “Like seriously. I have never seen Tom going so long without erupting. Sure, part of it is the therapy, no doubt about that, but there’s the other thing, is that he has this soft look on his face whenever he’s looking at you. It’s _so weird._ It took me a while, but I finally figured out what it means!”

“And that is-?” You urge for her to carry on.

“He _likes_ you, idiot!” She widens her eyes in that way that makes you feel kind of stupid for not knowing things. “I mean, he’s _in like_ with you!”

“He’s in like with _you_.” You retort, somehow already picking up Star’s strange phrase for describing a crush. She tends to have that effect on people.

“Nuh uh.” She shakes her head. “I _know_ it, okay? He’s not in like with me anymore. He hasn’t been for a long time. And I found it strange that he managed to go on months without trying to make a move. Something about demons, I believe. It’s part of their whole courting culture, but that’s irrelevant to this current topic. What I’m trying to say is, it’s all making sense now! Because he’s got someone new- _you, Marco._ ”

“You’re wrong.” You shake your head. “He’s completely smitten with you.”

“Marco. Trust me. I know my stuff.”

You just gawk.

“Isn’t this a good thing for you?” Star prompts. “You like him. He likes you too. It’s perfect!”

“It’s not like that.” You frown. “You can’t just speak for other people, Star.”

“And neither can you!” She takes your shoulders and starts to rock you back and forth violently. “Why can’t you just accept it? I thought you’d be happy about this!”

You slap her hands away. “Stop it.” You ignore the hurt flashing in her eyes and drop your head to the ground. You study the tiles of the kitchen floor. They are faded and yellow-ish due to the age. They are not very interesting.

“These kinds of things don’t happen to me.” You inform Star. “These fairy-tale plots and happily ever afters. They aren’t realistic.”

“Are you afraid?” Star’s voice is suddenly smaller, more understanding than you imagine it could ever sound.

Fairy tales don’t happen to you. You know it by heart. You fought, you worked for everything you have today. It all follows the same pattern- all except Star, and the miracles she brought along.

“I don’t know.” You admit. “I really don’t know what to feel about Tom anymore, to be honest.”

She hoists herself up to sit beside you, legs dangling idly. “Sorry I didn’t put your feelings into consideration.” Star offers.

“It’s fine.”

It’s not really fine yet, but you think you don’t actually know what fine means anymore, so you let it slip.

“Sorry for being mean. I know you’re just trying to help.” You say back.

She rests her head on your shoulder and hums absent-mindedly in reply.

* * *

 

Star evaluates that Tom might stay there in the block of ice for a bit of a while, judging by the size of that thing, so you wait by the phone, still staring expectantly, hoping that it would ring.

“Stand up. Walk around. Go take a shower.” Star shoos you out the room. You speculate she’s getting bothered by your legs bouncing up and down but simply too nice to tell you so.

You do as you’re told, because you really can never say no to Star. And you _are_ kind of sweaty from running around all morning.

The bathroom cabinet behind the mirror is a little dusty, due to the lack of cleaning, since it doesn’t really serve a purpose to exist rather than being an available storage from time to time. You throw it open, to get to a new bottle of shampoo stashed at the far corner of the cabinets, (you’re reaching the very bottom of your current bottle, and you like to prepare ahead) when you reach something warm and furry back there.

You frown, wandering if you’ve managed to break your senses, before taking a closer look, to see Tom’s bunny lying there, quivering. Her tiny nose twitching neurotically.

“Wha-” You close your hands around the little guy to bring her down. “Have you been hiding out here the whole time?” You accuse.

She doesn’t answer except for an adorable sneeze. You take that as a confession. You breathe out slowly. “Great. Your dad is mad at me for no good reason, then. Not that he would know this. Or that you could help it.”

The bunny poofs up, nuzzling her head into your palms.

She doesn’t seem to be much for conversation.

“Star-” You call out, making your way to show her your little discovery. “Look who I found.”

She gasps loudly. “Tom’s bunny!” She brightens up. “Hello, little buddy! Where’ve you been all day? We’ve been worried sick looking for you!”

“Apparently chilling out in some dusty abandoned ancient-artifact site.” You offer.

“Like a kid who doesn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of their parents’ bickering!” Star inputs.

You roll your eyes at her implications.

“Anyway, hold this little fella while I go take a walk. Forever.”

“Where are you going?”

“Taking down the missing flyers.” You say. “They won’t be necessary anymore.”

“I can come with you!” Star offers. “Just wait a bit while I melt- oh.”

She doesn’t say it, but you both know that the real reason you’re so eager to leave the house is that you don’t want to be there when Tom _does_ melt.

He’s too unpredictable. What would be his reaction to his bunny being found? Would he be relieved? Drained out? Would he thank you? Would he yell at you some more?

You don’t think you could face that Tom. The Tom that _Star_ knew, and tried to force upon you. The Tom that you wasn’t aware of.

You really are a wimp.

* * *

 

The nice people in your little town greet you as you take down the fliers, asking you if the critter has been found. You smile pleasantly at all of them, easing their concerns.

* * *

 

You nearly slam the door in his face when Tom comes to answer the door at _your house_. Not out of disgust or outrageousness, not really, but more out of shock. Like, _wow, I’m looking at something that shouldn’t be here. I must’ve knocked on the door wrong. Better try again._

You figure Star would’ve gotten rid of him already. _That’s why_ you went back, but for some unknown reason, Tom is still there.

(But you’ve been gone the whole day! It’s suppertime now, and shouldn’t Tom be going back to some fancy royal castle feasting on whatever fancy royal demon entities eat for meals?)

“I’m sorry.” He says before you can even get a word in.

“What?” You ask sluggishly.

“It’s just- your parents came home while I was melting off the last bit at my ankles. And though Star already handed me a towel to dry me off they still thought it was necessary to invite me in and practically shoved me into your showers. I used up the last of your shampoo by the way. Sorry about that too.”

“Great.” You say wearily. “And I would like to know that because-?”

Tom blinks, taken aback. “Uh, right. I thought I’d want to know if someone used up my shampoo. So it doesn’t get weird when I suddenly smell it on them.”

“That’s not really what I meant.” You say to him.

“Okay.”

An awkward silence stretches between you. You rub at your elbows uneasily.

“Can I get- _I mean-_ this is my house.” You say at him.

He yelps and just about leaps out the way. “Of course. Thank you for finding my bunny. I… don’t know what I would do without her.”

“It’s nothing.” You twitch uncomfortably.

Things feel a little weird, but he hasn’t screamed in your face yet so it’s all going pretty well, you guess.

You stay rooted despite the cleared path. “It’s not that I’d… toss her in the trash or anything? Where is she anyway?”

“Hair.” Tom says. The bunny, as if on cue, pokes out her little head through Tom’s fluffy comfy nest of hair before ducking down again. “She likes it in there because it’s all warm and nice. But it gets really annoying when she leaves droppings.” Tom makes a face. “Anyway. Sorry for going crazy on you. It was uncalled for and I acted like a huge baby. I’ll be on my way and try to stay out of your sight.” He shuffles on his feet, looking down uncomfortably. “Can I still come over when you’re not here though? Star’s still my friend.”

“Whoa, wait a second.” With the pace the conversation is flying you can’t help but feel like your head is spinning. “So what? You’re just going to pretend I don’t exist anymore?”

“You _do_ exist. That’s why you need to be avoided.” He explains.

Your heart drops down to your stomach. You haven’t realized that this whole thing would lead to such an overinflated outcome. You really don’t know what you’re doing wrong this time around. Turns out you really _are_ awful at keeping friends.

“Okay, yeah. I don’t think that’s very fair.” You fight weakly, despite your mind screaming at you to just shut up and stop being such a bother. “You literally barged into my life and now you’re just disappearing from it completely? Kinda selfish, isn’t it?”

Tom looks genuinely confused, which you did not expect as a reaction at all. (You were initially thinking more to the lines of, including but not limited to: bewilderment, exasperation, and/or indifference.)

“So I know you really want me to get lost forever but you’re kinda sending mixed signals here. Or maybe I’m just very very bad at reading the atmosphere.”

You laugh a little, and Tom looks so offended it only makes you want to laugh more. “Sorry.” You quickly explain. “It’s just. I was literally trying to guilt trap you into staying around. I mean sure, I’d like some alone time for a while, to get the saltiness out of my system, but why would you think I want you to vanish from this dimension for the rest of eternity?”

“I yelled at you.” He says honestly. “Even though you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And that’s what friends do.” You respond. “They fight. They let it cool off. And they’re buddies again.” Then your cheeks grow a bit warm. “Also,” You admit. “I was kinda inconsiderate. Sorry for that, by the way.”

“Oh. That’s fine.” He says.

And that is that.

“So now that I know we’re still okay, that means I gotta properly apologize for this sometime okay? How does Tuesday night sound? I know you’re free on Tuesday nights.”

“Tuesday night’s fine, stalker.” You snort. “But please get out now. We don’t exactly have extra mattresses for you to sleep on.”

You step through the door, and let Tom step out.

“I’ll see you around?” Tom asks, and you swear you can hear a hopefulness in his tone.

You cock your head and smile. “See you around, Tom.”

He smiles back before disappearing into a portal.

You shake your head fondly and close the door. You turn straight into Star’s grinning face. “So~” She singsongs. “How did it go?”

You scoff and shove her playfully. “I’m going to go make some nachos.” You announce.

“I’m glad you two made up!” She hollers behind your back.

* * *

 

“Did I ever tell you the story about Marsh?” He tickles the little bunny on her tiny head. Her ears twitch endearingly.

You shake your head.

Tom‘s gaze turns wistful and faraway. “She’s a gift from my father. Well, sort of. She was given to me by the anger management coach he hired me, so, she’s technically from him.”

“You had an anger management coach?” You blurt, then wincing, realizing how rude it is to be butting in.

Tom only smiles grimly, so you think he doesn’t mind your interruption.

“Yeah. His name was Brian. I guess you could say his contract expired. He left me Marsh over here though.” he gives the bunny a little tickle under her ears. The tiny guy twitches her nose in delight.

You wait for him to go on.

Tom pauses, then finally says, “What I meant by that was- he’s gone now. My dad.”

“Oh. I- I’m sorry.” You stammer, never really knowing what to say at these occurrences.

“I’d like to say that it’s fine. But it’s not, and I don’t want to lie to you, Marco.” Tom narrows his eyes lazily. “It’s strange, because as long as I could remember, I’ve always been sort of intimidated by my dad. You know he’s a Mewman? A Mewman! All feared King of the Underworld! It’s impossible not to feel at least a little nervous around him. I got my anger from him actually, surprise~ But he deals with it much better than I do, obviously.” Tom kicks at his own feet helplessly. “Getting sidetracked, sorry. Anyway. He died, the kingdom’s in chaos. My mother’s been running everything by herself for months now, all because I’m too much of a coward to go back and take the throne. So yeah, I’m only here because I’m running away from my problems. Pathetic, I know.”

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, balancing your words carefully on the tip of your tongue, not wanting to slip and make a car crash of everything.

You decide to start simple. “I think it’s impressive.”

He looks faintly intrigued. “What is?”

“That you’re still pretty much held together. It’s understandable that you’re feeling unsure- I mean, you just lost your father, your country is basically in pieces. Sure, you’re sort of trying to avoid your upcoming troubles, but the mere fact that you are willing to acknowledge the situation is very brave of you.”

Tom’s only response is a grunt.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” You try meekly, “There’s nothing wrong with taking some time for yourself. Just be sure to sort out what it is you want. Are you going back and running your rightfully inherited kingdom? Are you fleeing and officially giving up your claim to the throne?”

“Either way means I have to take a trip back.” Tom slumps visibly. “And that’s something I’m really hoping I don’t have to do.”

You pat his shoulders sympathetically. “You owe it to your people. More importantly, you owe an explanation to your mother.”

Tom doesn’t reply right away, but you know he’s given your words a good thought after absorbing them thoroughly. Then he lifts his head and manages to meet your two eyes with all three of his somehow. “You know, you’re not bad as a therapist.”

It skims over the surface your mind whether Tom is in knowledge about your tiny, secret passion for psychology before you break into a giant dopey beam. “Thanks.”

“So I bet you’ve heard all about the whole anger thing by now.” He plays with his thumbs.

“Not entirely.” You say truthfully. “Star’s a pretty loyal friend, but I think you know that already. She would never just go around blabbing off things you’re not comfortable with revealing.”

“Right.” Tom breathes out. “It’s not that complicated, actually. Normal anger management stuff. Don’t know what it is exactly. It used to be even worse. Well, that, combined with a fire demon with thousands of tortured souls trapped inside my body, so yeah. It can be a handful.”

“Well,” You’re not sure if it’s a good idea to be meeting his eyes, since he has three of them and a little math would be required to figuring out how to balance the attention between each, so you look away like a scaredy cat. “Do I make a big deal out of this?”

There _must_ be a better way to ask that question, but you’re dumb, and you can’t properly form sentences. Thankfully Tom seems to get your point.

“Not if you don’t want to. On second thought, I’d rather you not.”

“Okay.” You answer cautiously. “Then I’m glad that your trust me enough to let me know.”

“It’s fine. I kinda owe an explanation to you anyway.” He rubs his neck, like he’s not sure what to do with his hand anymore. “And it’s like a warning label. That’s the thing- it’s a heads up if you really think we can still be friends. I’m going to flow a fuse sooner or later. I don’t want you to get hurt because I was being overly emotional.”

“Why are you certain about something that hasn’t even happened yet?”

He shrugs. “It’s bound to. Like the Earth’s bound to orbit. Like the leaf’s bound to fall and rot. I’m bound to explode and cause a wreck. It’s literally part of me because of the tiny angry souls trapped inside of me.”

“Is there any way to make it better?”

Tom laughs. “Well there’s therapy. But the problem will never be completely removed unless I do an exorcising session every week for years and I think it’s pretty self-explanatory as to why I’m not in much of a haste to go through with that”

You don’t really know how to respond to that, so you keep your mouth shut.

“You know I’d really appreciate it if you stopped treating me so wearily like you need to be mindful in case my bomb ticks off any minute.” He mumbles. “You don’t use to do that. Is it because now you know about my anger issues?”

You flush pink. “I’m not doing that.”

Tom doesn’t comment, only chortles. “Don’t worry dude. I’m used to that look. From my servants, from the subjects to my kingdom, from Starship, heck, even from my mom. I’ve come to expect it, y’know?”

“Damn.”

“‘Damn’, is right.”

“That sucks.”

“Meh.” Tom seems indifferent. “It’s just something I gotta deal with. We’ve all got them. Mine is just a bigger pain in the ass than most people’s.”

He says it so naturally, without a single shred of doubt, and it breaks your heart a little to hear him so helpless about it.

“Don’t let one aspect of your life take up your entirety.” You plead softly.

It’s not up to you whether other people take your advice, but the least you can do is try to help.

His face is unreadable. “You’re too nice to me.”

“You deserve to be treated nicely.”

* * *

 

“Have I never told you that Marsh can teleport?”

“Wh- _No!_ ” You gawk, at a rare loss of words. “You bunny’s magical too?”

“She’s from another dimension! What’d you expect?” Tom seems plenty surprised that you didn’t anticipate his bunny to be different from their Earthly counterparts.

“Not _that_ for sure.” You assure him.

Tom hums reflectively. “Yeah… The teleporting thing is why either Brian or I always have to have a firm grab on her so she doesn’t just randomly slip away.”

Realization dawns upon you. “So _that’s_ why you’re so worried when you couldn’t find her. You thought-”

“I had no idea if she even remained in this dimension.” Tom admits.

“Darn.” Way to make you feel like a giant jerk. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

He waves you off easily. “I’m just glad we’re able to find her so easily.” He plays with the bunny’s paws carelessly.

“You call that _easy_?”

Tom snorts. “You should’ve seen me the last time I lost her. I nearly blasted half of our castle walls off.”

* * *

 

“How do you always manage to find me?” You finally ask one day, when Tom shows up outside your _grandmother’s house_ during a visit.

“Demon sixth-sense.” He tells you smugly, eyes twinkling mischievously. “We use them to hunt down our enemies so we can get rid of them before they chopped our head off during sleep.”

“You have a demon sixth-sense?” Your repulsed face must be entertaining, because Tom breaks into laughter. “ You’re so gullible!” He exclaims, patting your head. You pat his head away. “No actually I planted a GPS in that half a sandwich I gave you and now I can pretty much track you down no matter where you go.”

You find it amazing that you can literally feel the blood draining from your face. “You’re kidding.”

Tom giggles.

You decide not to plague yourself with that disturbing thought ever again.

* * *

 

“What happened to ‘I think it sounds sweet’?” Star teases.

You groan. “I take it back. He’s a nightmare.”

“Hey, I tried to warn you.”

**Author's Note:**

> there's too much dialogue as usual  
> oh well  
> i really don't know why i titled this like That


End file.
